Past and Present Pains
by Camelotpointe
Summary: Whilst out riding Merlin, Arthur and the knights are attacked by a creature only Merlin can see. The warlock follows the creature and manages to defeat it, but is seriously wounded in the process. He collapses into blissful unconsciousness, unaware that Gwaine has seen the whole thing...
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone,_

_This is my first full-length fanfiction story and I hope you all enjoy it! It is a reveal fic, although I'm not sure if all of the characters will find out about Merlin's magic or only one or two. Please review and tell me what you think._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters._

The knights, Arthur and Merlin were riding through the woods, teasing and insulting each other playfully.

"Well, we all know that I'm the strongest", Gwaine said confidently. Leon snorted and Percival was unable to keep back his own bark of laughter. Arthur rolled his eyes at the knight's antics, Merlin smiled to himself and Elyan ignored Gwaine completely because he found that was the best thing to do in most situations.

"What?" Gwaine asked, looking around at his snickering friends.

"Gwaine… even without taking the rest of us into consideration, Percival is twice the size of you and has the strength to match", Arthur called over his shoulder. Percival grinned proudly and Merlin tried to stifle a giggle. Arthur looked over at his manservant.

"Obviously when I said 'the rest of us', it didn't include Merlin", the King continued, to the amusement of the knights. "I think Guinevere is stronger than he is." The knights laughed as Merlin bit his lip, trying to contain his annoyance. The truth was, though, that Merlin loved the bickering that he engaged in with Arthur and the knights. He loved how they treated him as an equal, despite their elevated rank. He knew that this was partly due to the fact that all of them, with the exception of Leon, had grown up as commoners so could relate to him better. But he also knew that they were his friends, the best he had ever had. They were all noble men, both by their status and in their hearts, and Merlin considered them his big brothers.

The knights had continued their banter whilst Merlin was thinking, but they immediately fell silent when Arthur raised his hand in the air. The King drew his horse to a halt and the rest of the knights followed suit.

"It's too quiet", Arthur observed, his voice only the merest whisper. They all looked around warily and Gwaine drew his sword. Suddenly they heard the pounding beat of heavy footsteps and the sound of something large crashing through the forest. The bushes to their left were abruptly flattened and the next second Percival gave a cry of pain as three short scratches materialised on his well-muscled arm. The knights looked around frantically, but the thing was gone. Merlin stared at the spot where the beast had disappeared into the wilderness, fear etched onto his features.

The creature was one of the most terrifying he had seen; a huge reptilian monster which stood on four legs, each ending in wickedly sharp, extendable claws. Its head – though covered in scales like the rest of its body – was the head of a bull, and giant, curved horns extended from either side of it. But that was not the worst thing. Oh no. The worst thing was that – judging by the knights' shocked expressions when Percival had cried out and the fact that the big knight had not even tried to get out of the thing's way – Merlin was the only one who could see the creature. His friends were completely defenceless.

He had no choice. As soon as he had realised that his friends could not see the reptilian beast he had known that there was only one way to protect them.

He ran after the creature, ignoring the knights' cries. The trail was easy to follow thanks to the sheer size of the thing and Merlin hurried after it, trying not to think about what he would do when he faced the creature because he had absolutely no clue. He knew that if he stopped to think about it he could lose his chance, and he couldn't run the risk of anyone else being hurt by the monster. So he kept running.

It took only a few minutes to find the beast. He had burst into the miniature clearing only to find the thing waiting for him. It stared at him greedily, testing him, and he felt his gut twist in fear when he realised that this had been its plan all along; to lure him after it. His eyes flashed gold and its head snapped up, sending it stumbling backwards. It regained its footing and looked back at him with hungry eyes.

The beast took a step in his direction and he instinctively stepped backwards. The creature continued to advance, pushing him further and further backwards in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Merlin tried to take another step but stopped when his foot connected with the trunk of a tree. He looked around him anxiously, but there was no escape. His eyes flashed gold once more, but this time the creature barely faltered before resuming its slow advance. Merlin took a step sideways, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the monster. It continued to walk towards him, a smug look gracing its cruel features. Merlin observed how its muscles subtly bunched and knew that in the next second it would pounce.

"Ástríce!" he cried, eyes burning with molten gold as the creature was flung across the clearing. It crashed into a tree on the opposite side of the clearing and the wood creaked ominously with the force of the landing. Pushing away from his tree shakily, Merlin quickly began to cross the clearing, anxious to return to Arthur and the knights and to check that Percival's wound was not infected.

He was halfway across the clearing when he heard the creak of wood and the unmistakable sound of a growl. He turned his head just in time to see the creature spring at him, claws extended. Responding to his instincts, he dived straight towards the reptilian beast, hoping against hope that he could get underneath it. But he had reacted too late.

As he tried to escape, the creature's razor-sharp claws sunk into his back, ripping the muscle to shreds and creating deep lacerations in the warlock's skin. He screamed in agony, and his scream reverberated throughout the still forest.

….

Merlin's scream penetrated Gwaine's daze. When the servant had insanely run off after the thing that had attacked them Gwaine had barely hesitated before following his friend. The servant may have been lucky in the past, but he couldn't fight off something he couldn't see and even if he had been able to see it Gwaine got the feeling that the thing would be pretty difficult to kill. Although Percival's wounds had only been minor Gwaine had an awful feeling that they were the least of what the creature could do. Plus, it was magical – it had to be; normal beasts were not invisible – and that just made it even more dangerous.

So Gwaine had run after the ridiculously brave (or ridiculously stupid, it depended on who you asked) servant, hoping he would be okay. He couldn't see Merlin, but followed the creature's tracks, knowing instinctively that this was the way the servant would have gone.

When the knight reached the clearing he found Merlin slowly backing away, eyes dilated in absolute terror. His gaze was fixated on something that Gwaine couldn't see, and the knight drew back, wracking his brains to think of a way to help Merlin when he couldn't even see the creature stalking his friend.

Gwaine gasped as the realization hit him. _Merlin could see the creature._ There was no reason to be backing away from something that wasn't there. His head swirled with half-concocted explanations. It was only invisible to knights. It was only invisible to nobles. Merlin was scared of a bunny, the creature was nowhere nearby. The knight scanned the ground hopefully, but there was nothing in the clearing except Merlin.

Maybe Merlin had _heard_ the creature. Perhaps he couldn't see it, but had been alerted to its presence by a sound it had made. Gwaine felt his heart slow back to its normal rate and he took a deep breath. Of course, that would be what had happened. It was a logical explanation, and Gwaine felt incredibly relieved that Merlin wasn't – wasn't – Gwaine didn't know exactly what his friend wasn't, but he suddenly remembered that Merlin _was_ in very real danger. Heart pounding, the knight peered into the clearing once more, scared of what he might see. Merlin was flattened against a tree, looking more terrified than Gwaine had ever seen him, but thankfully alive. The servant took a slow step sideways, eyes never straying from the centre of the clearing. He tensed and Gwaine rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to charge in at a moment's notice. The servant suddenly threw back his head and shouted one word: Ástríce. His eyes burned with golden fire and a tree at the opposite side of the clearing creaked, wood splintering. Gwaine stood, dumbfounded, but unable to hide the truth. Merlin had used magic. His friend was a sorcerer.

….

Arthur's head snapped up as a scream rang through the silent forest. His gut twisted in fear. He knew that scream.

He didn't remember getting to his feet, but suddenly he was standing. He pushed past Leon and Elyan blindly, ignoring their attempts to stop him. He ran through the forest, following the trail of devastation to where he knew he would find his servant and friend. Whether Merlin was alive or dead was something Arthur tried not to think about.

….

Merlin screamed as he felt pain explode through his back; a white-hot agony that was worse than anything he had ever known. Raising his head a fraction, he saw the creature looking at him with an expression of smug satisfaction and – could it be? – pity. It was disconcerting to see such human emotions on the face of the reptilian beast, and Merlin couldn't suppress a shudder.

Studying him, the creature seemed to realise that its prey was done for and turned away from the warlock. Merlin knew its plan. He could see the intention that shone from the creature's evil yellow eyes... Now that there was nobody who could see it, the thing would seek out Arthur and the knights – and kill them. They would never see it coming. But Merlin could not allow that to happen.

Pushing past the pain that built until spots flashed across his vision, the warlock concentrated all his power and felt it surge to the surface of his body, eager to escape. Muttering a few quiet words under his breath, he watched as a sword appeared in his hand.

Sensing the display of magic, the creature turned, licking its scaly lips in anticipation. Merlin faced it fearlessly. His eyes burned with golden fire even stronger than before as he raised the sword and sent it spinning through the air towards the creature.

"Bregdan anweald gafeluc!" he commanded, voice rippling with power. The sword began to trail blue fire, and embedded itself deep in the monster's chest. The beast fell, dead, and with a sigh of relief Merlin collapsed into peaceful oblivion.

…..


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again,_

_Hope you are enjoying the story! There have been a lot of fanfictions written where Arthur and the knights find out about Merlin's magic and Gwaine is generally the most accepting of it, as he didn't grow up in Camelot so has had a different experience with magic. I wanted to show a different view of how he might react, and will have some insight into his past later on in the story._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters._

Gwaine stood just outside the clearing, stunned. He didn't know how long it had been since Merlin had fallen – it could have been 30 seconds, or 30 hours. He realised, dimly, that his friend was seriously wounded and he needed help if he was going to survive. He also realised that in normal circumstances this would have distressed him greatly, but he was still in shock, and could not tear his mind from the one thought: _Merlin has magic._ It was so shocking, so unbelievable, yet at the same time it made sense.

The servant had ridden into danger with Arthur and the knights countless times, and had always managed to escape virtually unharmed. Even when more experienced, highly skilled knights had been killed, Merlin had somehow survived each and every threat that they had faced. He had survived the touch of the Dorocha – something which Gaius had declared was impossible – and despite his ineptitude with a sword, he had always kept his own during conflicts with bandits or other warriors.

Arthur burst into the knight's musings and Gwaine's head jerked upwards to look at him, his face devoid of emotion. Arthur stared at him for a second, hoping that the man would say something to quell his fears. It was _Gwaine_. He always had something to say. Arthur felt his heart clench in fear and pushed past the knight roughly. Seeing Merlin, he rushed to the side of his fallen friend, frantically checking to see if he was still breathing. Relieved to find that he was, Arthur hefted the scrawny man, quickly making his way back the way he had come. He was surprised to find Gwaine still in the spot where he had left him and harshly demanded what he was doing. Arthur's angry tone shook the knight partially out of his stupor and he followed the young king back to where Percival, Leon and Elyan were waiting with the horses.

Elyan fought to keep his face expressionless as the King gently set down the unconscious manservant. Leon's eyes widened in concern and shock, and Percival stared in outright horror at the man they had all considered a friend. Blood was seeping from the open wounds on Merlin's back at an alarming rate, and the servant's breathing was shallow and hitched. Gwaine felt oddly detached from the whole situation. He was part of the scene, but felt no emotion or worry for his friend. What was emotion when Merlin was a sorcerer?

...

Arthur dropped another log onto the fire, staring dejectedly into the glowing embers. The other knights had drifted off hours ago, but he couldn't sleep. Gwaine was standing guard and Arthur occasionally heard movement from him, but he couldn't see the knight in the darkness. Gwaine had been strangely quiet since finding Merlin in his near-death state. Arthur had attempted to question him about it, but the knight refused to answer and Arthur had quickly given up, returning his focus to the wounded servant. He had bandaged Merlin's back wounds with the bandages Gaius had given him, and when those had run out Arthur had ripped his own cape into shreds to use as dressing.

It had been almost 6 hours since Merlin had been found unconscious in the clearing, and he had still not woken. Arthur put it down to the servant's excessive blood loss and felt for a pulse every few minutes, just to reassure himself that the man was still alive. Earlier, the King had talked. He had reminded Merlin that he had, once again, fainted like a girl, and had kept himself amused by listing all of the chores Merlin would be doing when they returned to Camelot. He also pointed out that, seeing as Merlin was responsible for the destruction of his cape, he would be paying for a new one. The King tried not to laugh as he imagined the look of horror that would have come as an answer to this speech if Merlin was awake and sobered as he was reminded that Merlin might not wake. His heart ached at the thought. The King had realised, a long time ago, that Merlin was a lot more to him than just his servant. The man was his best friend, his brother, and although Arthur would never admit it, he couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

After another half hour of sitting, staring into the fire as it slowly died down, Arthur's musings were interrupted by a sound from his right. His head snapped around and he glanced around the area warily, his gaze finally settling on Merlin, who was lying on his side. The servant's eyes slowly flickered open; he blinked and opened his eyes once more.

It took a moment for the warlock to focus, but when his vision cleared he found himself looking across at Arthur. The King was watching him anxiously, as if he could burst into fire at any minute. Realising his uncomfortable position, Merlin rolled onto his back. He let out an agonised shout as a wave of pain lanced through his body, nearly knocking him out with its intensity.

The pain lasted only a few seconds before Arthur swiftly rolled him back onto his side. Merlin lay still, gasping in deep lungfuls of air as the pain gradually subsided. He was aware of it now; a deep, throbbing ache that pounded through his back with a slow, steady rhythm like a pulse.

He opened his mouth to speak but his throat was dry and sore. Swallowing painfully, he opened his mouth once more.

"What happened?" He rasped. Arthur looked concerned.

"You don't remember?" Merlin didn't answer, but Arthur pressed on regardless. "We were attacked by some sort of magical beast. It was invisible; we had no way of knowing where it was or how to defeat it. It injured Percival and you –" Arthur's expression hardened, "– you chased after it and nearly got yourself killed."

Merlin contemplated the King's words for a second.

"Sorry", he said lamely. Arthur sighed and Merlin's eyes widened as another thought occurred to him.

"Percival – is he alright?" He asked anxiously. He tried to sit up but Arthur, gently but firmly, pushed him back down.

"He'll be fine", Arthur assured him. "It was just a scratch."

"You didn't get off so easily", Gwaine said, stepping out of the trees. Merlin grinned half-heartedly, but Arthur looked outraged.

"How long have you been there?" he demanded. Gwaine shrugged lazily.

"Not long", he replied. "I heard a shout. Thought there might be trouble." Arthur relaxed slightly.

"No, it… it was just Merlin", he replied more civilly, trying to recover his train of thought. Gwaine studied the servant casually.

"You look better", he commented. Merlin managed a small smile, confused by his friend's offhand tone.

"I guess I was lucky", he said lightly. Gwaine looked at him, eyes cold.

"Lucky", he repeated, trying to smile. "Seems like you've made a, uh – almost magical recovery." He flashed a smile towards the servant, whose eyes had widened in shock at the hidden meaning behind Gwaine's words.

…..

Merlin's heart thudded so loudly that he wondered how Arthur and Gwaine didn't hear it. Gwaine knew his secret. It hadn't been a coincidence that he had used that word – magical. He knew that Merlin had magic.

Merlin suddenly felt light-headed. Gwaine's knowing smile swam before his eyes.

"Arthur. Arthur!" he gasped out, alarmed. Arthur's face appeared in front of him. It, too, was oddly distorted and swam before his eyes.

"Merlin, I'm here. It's alright…" The last thing Merlin heard before falling into a dark abyss of nothingness was Arthur's voice saying his name.

….

_Hi all! Hope you are enjoying the story so far. Please review to tell me what you think. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi, I'm back! Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed this story so far. I'm so glad that you like it! Here is chapter 3! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters._

Gaius looked up in shock as Arthur shouldered his way into the physician's chambers. His heart froze in fear as he caught sight of his ward, who was dangling limply from the King's arms. The elderly physician took a deep breath, pushing aside his personal feelings and entering his professional state.

"Set him down on the bed. _Quickly_", he instructed, trying to remain calm. Arthur did as he was told, gently lowering Merlin onto the bed which Gaius used for his patients.

"It's his back", Arthur said, before Gaius had a chance to ask. The physician gently rolled his ward onto his stomach, sucking in his breath when he saw the condition Merlin's shirt was in. The thing had been ripped to shreds.

"What did this?" he asked in astonishment, staring at the King with eyes that implored to know the truth. Arthur took a deep breath.

"We were attacked", he began, "by an invisible beast. Merlin ran after it and…" he trailed off, unable to describe what the thing had done to Merlin. Gaius could see clearly what it had done to man's shirt; surely he would have some idea of the type of damage that had been caused.

The physician let out his breath; he hadn't even realised that he had been holding it. Merlin would have been able to see the creature, he knew that. Foolish though his ward often was, he knew better than to run off after something that was invisible to him. Gaius briefly wondered where the creature was now, before returning his attention to the injured warlock. He ripped through the remains of Merlin's shirt, not needing a scalpel as the material fell away in his hands. He regarded Arthur's makeshift bindings with approval and began to unwrap the bandaging. Arthur watched anxiously as Gaius gently peeled back the layers of bandages. As the last layer fell away from the scrawny servant's back the physician gasped and Arthur could not suppress a shudder, even though he had known what the sight would be.

"The muscle has been ripped to shreds", Gaius whispered, horrified. Arthur bit his lip and forced himself not to look away. The wounds had stopped bleeding and were beginning to form scabs, but there were flaps of muscle and sinew hanging from Merlin's back and the skin around the lacerations had _withered_.

Arthur swallowed, trying not to be sick. He had seen many terrible sights in his years as a warrior. He had seen hundreds of men gutted, hanged or beheaded, and had watched hundreds more bleed to death on a battlefield. But never had he seen a sight that affected him as badly as this, and the fact that it was _Merlin_ – Merlin, his idiotic manservant and best friend, who didn't know one end of a sword from the other and had no way of defending himself – just made it worse.

Gaius looked shell-shocked as he stared at the mess that had been made of his ward's back. Snapping out of his stupor, he turned and reached for a bottle of yellowy-brown liquid. The label was faded and peeling, but could be made out to read '_Friar's Balsam'_. He looked up at Arthur, who was staring at Merlin's back with a mixture of disgust and fascination.

"Could you get me some fresh water?" he asked quietly, reaching for a bucket. Arthur looked surprised at the request but stood immediately and took the bucket from Gaius. He glanced down at Merlin once more, then turned and almost ran from the physician's chambers, eager to be out of there.

Alone with his unconscious ward, Gaius heaved a sigh and sank down onto the stool beside Merlin's bedside.

"Oh, Merlin", he sighed, looking regretfully at the powerful young man before him. "What have you done?"

A few minutes later Arthur returned carrying the bucket of water, which he handed to Gaius. The physician took a towel and dipped a corner of it into the water. He then used the wet towel to cleanse Merlin's wounds, gently sponging the crusted blood from around the lacerations. Once they were thoroughly cleaned Gaius reached for the bottle of Friar's Balsam; a tincture made from a compound of benzoin, aloe and tolu balsam that was invaluable for healing deep tissue wounds. Turning back to Merlin, he took a pipette and dribbled a little of the foul-smelling liquid into the open wounds, then replaced the bottle and walked over to a shelf of potions. Peering at the rows of bottles and jars, he selected one and carried it over to where Arthur was sitting by Merlin's side.

"What's that?" Arthur asked, nodding at the jar of thick, amber liquid.

"Honey", Gaius replied. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Honey?" he asked sceptically.

"It helps fight infection", Gaius explained. Arthur nodded and watched in silence as the physician smeared a thick coating of honey over the gashes covering Merlin's back, then began bandaging the wounds once more.

…

Percival winced as Gaius pulled the bandage more tightly around his upper arm. Arthur had insisted that he see the physician to make sure the wound did not become infected and the knight had reluctantly agreed. He had been afraid of how Gaius would react to Merlin's injury; he knew that Merlin was like a son to the old man and was worried about how Merlin's pain would affect Gaius.

The physician tied the bandage in a tight knot and stepped back, surveying his work with satisfaction.

"There. I've cleaned the wound; it will heal within a few days but in the meantime, _no training_", he stressed. He knew that Percival would hate to miss training – all the knights did, although they complained enough when they _did_ have to go – but rest was essential to make sure that the wound healed properly.

"Thank you, Gaius." Percival looked over at Merlin in concern. The man was muttering in his sleep – names, mostly, along with a language Percival had never heard before. "Will he be alright?"

Gaius followed the knight's gaze to his unconscious ward.

"In time", he replied sombrely. Percival nodded, slightly embarrassed but relieved to know that Merlin – a man he considered to be his younger brother – would recover. He stood and turned to leave.

"Gwaine!" The shout split the quiet atmosphere of the chamber and Percival turned in alarm, reaching instinctively for his sword before realising that he didn't have it. He panicked for a moment, and then realised that it was Merlin who had uttered the name. Gaius glanced at the knight warily. Merlin was tossing to and fro frantically, tangling himself up in the threadbare blankets draped over him.

"Gwaine – no, please don't do it", the servant begged. "No, Gwaine you can't tell him. You can't, he'll kill me!" Merlin's cries lowered to soft mutterings and his wild thrashing ceased.

"I think it would be best for you to go", Gaius said in a low, anxious voice, shepherding Percival towards the door. Percival looked back at Merlin, confused, but Gaius continued to usher him towards the door and the knight reluctantly turned away to leave. As he walked out of the room, he heard Merlin cry brokenly:

"I'm not evil."

….

_Author's Note: Friar's balsam only acts as an antiseptic for minor wounds; I'm not sure what treatment would have been used for Merlin's wounds in those days, so I allowed myself some poetic license, although it is true that it is made from benzoin, aloe and tolu balsam. In the episode 'Gwaine' (Series 3, Episode 4) Gaius mentioned that honey helps fight infection, so I included that in the treatment of Merlin's wounds._

_Please review and let me know what you think!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello again. I'm really glad that so many people have read this story and followed it, listed it as a favourite or written a review. It means a lot to me, knowing that other people enjoy my writing. Without further ado, here is Chapter 4!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of the characters._

Gwaine strode into the armoury, surprised but pleased to find Percival in there.

"So." He grinned at the large knight. "When are you coming back to training?" Percival looked up from where he had been inspecting his sword.

"Not for another couple of days", he said, straightening up as he turned to face his friend. "Gaius says I have to wait until my arm's fully healed." His tone made it clear that he would have preferred to be training than resting, but he respected the old physician and knew from experience that for the wounds to heal properly, he needed to follow Gaius' instructions. Gwaine grinned, leaning back against a bench with his arms folded.

"Why all this fuss for a scratch?" he asked brazenly. Percival looked at his friend, surprised at Gwaine's attitude.

"Gaius knows best", he reminded the dark haired knight, but Gwaine simply shrugged. Percival stood, looking at Gwaine confusedly. "What's wrong with you?" Gwaine looked surprised.

"What do you mean?" he asked, tossing his hair casually. Percival frowned. Gwaine was carefree and loved a joke, but he always knew when to be serious.

"Gwaine, you've been different ever since we got back from the hunting trip", Percival said bluntly. He leaned towards his friend, lowering his voice. "I would understand if you were worried about Merlin, but from what I heard he's terrified that you'll hurt him. This isn't you."

"I don't know what you mean", Gwaine said, flashing a (forced) grin at his friend.

"What do you know about Merlin?" Percival asked, slowly and clearly. Gwaine's smile froze on his face and he abruptly stood, backing away from the larger knight.

"What did you hear?" he asked quietly.

"When I went to see Gaius for my arm, Merlin was crying out in his sleep. He was saying your name." Percival slowly advanced towards his friend. "He was pleading with you not to tell someone something. He said that if you told them he would be killed. I don't know what is going on, but Merlin is your friend and I can't believe you would betray him." Gwaine stared at his friend, shell-shocked, and Percival raised his hands to show that he was not a threat.

"Gwaine, please. What do you know about Merlin?"

Gwaine swallowed, stunned. Percival was right, he couldn't betray his friend. He didn't know what to do about Merlin's secret, but he couldn't do anything without talking to Merlin first. He owed him that much. Percival was still staring at him, waiting for an answer, and Gwaine briefly contemplated telling him what he had seen. Percival could help him figure out what to do. Gwaine shook his head. Like Percival himself had said; he couldn't betray his friend. Gwaine took a step backwards, then turned and ran from the room.

….

Gwen knocked on the door and entered the chambers that she and Arthur shared. Her husband was standing by the window, staring out into the courtyard below like he often did when he was worried or thinking about something. The Queen smiled as she made her way over to him and reached up to kiss his cheek. He turned to face her and pressed his lips against hers, savouring the kiss. Gwen pulled away and smiled up at him. He smiled back before turning to stare out of the window once more.

"Arthur." Gwen was watching him in concern. "Elyan told me about Merlin. Have you heard from Gaius?" Almost immediately a change came over Arthur. His body tensed and a shutter fell over his eyes, blocking her from viewing his true feelings.

"Gaius has cleansed the wounds; he should make a full recovery in time", the King stated emotionlessly. Gwen searched his face for a sign of emotion, looking deep into his sapphire blue eyes, but he had closed his heart to her and she drew back with a sigh, knowing that this was something he would have to overcome on his own. Merlin was the only one who could help him at a time like this, and Merlin couldn't help in his current condition. A small, sad smile played about her lips. She knew that when Merlin recovered her husband would return to his usual self. She would just have to be patient and let him know that she was there for him, no matter what.

She turned to leave but turned back and impulsively put her arms around Arthur, drawing him close to her. He hesitated for a moment, surprised, but soon relaxed and clutched her to him, taking comfort in her presence and her touch. The two did not need words to express their love for each other, and sometimes a simple embrace was all the communication that was needed.

….

Leon watched anxiously as Arthur ducked under a blow from Elyan, only just in time. The King could usually beat his brother-in-law with ease, but he had been distracted as of late and it was showing in his combat skills. Leon sincerely wished that no bandits or mercenaries would attempt an attack any time soon, as Arthur's sword work was getting steadily worse as the days wore on.

He knew the reason for the King's preoccupation. Merlin was still recovering from his encounter with the invisible beast and had not yet been able to leave his bed. Gaius had assured them that he would make a full recovery in time, but that time evidently was not soon enough for Arthur. And as well as worrying about his friend he was worried about what to do if the creature struck again. Without being able to see the creature they had no way of fighting it, or even defending themselves if it were to attack.

Percival had returned to training the day before, but the large knight seemed strangely distant and had hardly spoken – although he had never been a man of many words. Gwaine had also been usually silent – although Leon put this down to his being worried about Merlin – and without the two of them the playful banter that all of the knights generally enjoyed was gone. Elyan was the only other who seemed to share Leon's worries, but the dark knight had never been much of a talker and preferred to keep to himself, not wanting to pry. Leon knew that he had spoken to Gwen when they returned from the hunt and explained the situation to her. He also knew that the Queen would help Arthur through the difficult time, but Merlin and Arthur had never had the typical master/servant relationship and Leon could tell how worried the King was about his servant; the man he considered a friend and brother.

Watching fixedly as Elyan managed to disarm the King, forcing him to his knees, Leon took a deep breath. Something had to be done.

….

Gwaine paced back and forth in his chambers, thoughts swirling through his head. He had skipped training that day, making an excuse about feeling unwell although he was sure Arthur thought that he had gone to the tavern.

He needed some time to think. If he was truthful, he had always known that there was something different about Merlin. But he had never thought that the something was _magic_. Gwaine had travelled to many kingdoms, including those which welcomed sorcerers as powerful allies, but he had lived in Camelot for years now and took for granted the laws that had stood for over 25 years – as did many of the kingdom's citizens. But there was more to Gwaine's distrust of magic than what he had learnt in Camelot – circumstances that went back to his infancy and early childhood.

He took a deep breath, sinking down onto his bed with a sigh of frustration and sadness. He wanted to help his friend – wanted to see the old Merlin that he had known and liked instead of seeing a dangerous sorcerer every time he looked at the man's trademark neckerchief, head of short, dark hair sticking up all over his head and that perpetually cheerful grin. He wanted to know that Merlin using magic didn't change who he was, that he was still the same man he had always been. He wanted to believe that magic was not inherently evil.

But he couldn't.

…

_Hi! You will find out in the next chapter why Gwaine doesn't trust those with magic, and will have the insight into his past as promised._


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello again! This chapter is a flashback to Gwaine's childhood, which explains more about why he doesn't completely trust Merlin when he finds out that he has magic. I have included information revealed about Gwaine's family in the actual show, but the rest is entirely the product of my imagination. Hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters._

….

Gwaine was 10 years old when his mother died.

Things had been rough since Gwaine's father had passed away, when he was only a baby. The man had been a knight in Caerlon's army and had been killed in battle. With his death, Gwaine, his mother, and his older sister Leslie were left in poverty. And when his mother had gone to the King for help, he had turned her away.

Eloise had worked hard to make a better life for her children. She had taken on any work she could find – as a seamstress, barmaid and even a serving girl in Caerlon's own palace. By the time Gwaine was 5 she had paid off the money she owed for their house – a tiny stone building with a thatched roof – and they were living as comfortably as could be hoped for. Money was scarce, and they sometimes went without food, but they were okay. Those were some of the best years of Gwaine's life.

When Leslie turned 13 she, too, began work as a serving girl, and it was here that she met Marius. Marius was the nephew of a lord, and lived with his uncle as both of his parents were dead. He took a shine to Leslie, who was not overly impressed with the young man's looks or personality, but _was_ impressed by his money. The lord had no heir, and when he died Marius would be first in line for his riches and his manor.

Leslie had never been satisfied with their peasant lifestyle. She was almost five years older than Gwaine, and remembered what it had been like when their father was alive and they were wealthy. She yearned to be a lady, and have a comfortable lifestyle. So when Marius asked her to marry him she said yes immediately, and left without a second glance.

Gwaine had never been overly fond of his sister. She had always wanted more – things that their mother longed to give her but could not afford to – and had never been satisfied with their position in life. When she left it almost broke their mother's heart. She had always worked hard to give Leslie what she wanted, and his evil old toad of a sister hadn't even bothered to say a decent goodbye. In fact, Eloise hadn't found out that her daughter had left until the next day, when one of the maids who had been friendly with Leslie had been kind enough to tell her.

She never spoke of it again, and Gwaine knew not to mention his sister. Whenever gossiping kitchen hands asked her for details, Eloise would paste a smile onto her worn, beautiful face and say simply that Leslie was better off and she was happy for her daughter. After a while they stopped asking for information, but Gwaine knew that there were still whispers about the scandal of a young serving girl marrying a future lord.

After a while his mother started smiling again, and the time came when she began to laugh. But there was a hidden tone of sorrow in her laugh that had never been there before and would never be absent from it again.

It was just over a year since Leslie had left them when the stranger came. He was a young man, a traveller who claimed to be from Cenred's kingdom. He had come to their house looking for shelter, and the kind woman was happy to share what little they had with him.

At first everything seemed fine. The man, who introduced himself as Algor, was polite, handsome and well-read. He was surprised when he learnt that both Gwaine and his mother knew how to read and Eloise explained that her husband had been a knight in Caerlon's army before his death. Algor had glanced around the room surreptitiously, as though searching for evidence of wealth, but there was nothing to suggest that Eloise possessed any greater fortune than any of the villagers. He did not comment on this, perhaps sensing that the tale was private or simply not wanting to pry. But from that day on he never mentioned Gwaine's father, and Eloise offered no further information about the man she had married.

…..

It had been almost two weeks since Algor had arrived, and Gwaine and Eloise had become accustomed to his presence. He assured them that he would be gone soon, but in the meantime they were glad of his company, and he of theirs.

It was a normal day in the village. Gwaine was out playing with some of the other village boys. They had been hiding and chasing one another for an hour, and were beginning to get bored with this form of entertainment when one of the older boys suggested a fight.

The idea was met with great excitement from the others and Geoffrey, the boy who had suggested the fight, immediately volunteered himself as one of the participants. There was a hush among the crowd of excited children. Geoffrey was a large boy, and was known for his strength and brutality. He also had a reputation for winning fights.

"I'll fight you!" piped up a voice. Immediately all heads swivelled in the direction of the boy who had spoken. Gwaine was fairly strong, but he was 3 years younger than Geoffrey and a lot smaller.

"Are you sure?" another of the older boys asked. Even he had been afraid at the thought of fighting Geoffrey, though he was the same age and taller than the other boy. Gwaine nodded confidently, looking at Geoffrey with a cheeky grin. Geoffrey smiled back. He was not over-bright, but his fighting skills had earned him the respect of the younger boys and quite a few of those who were the same age as him. He knew Gwaine by sight, but had never had much to do with the younger boy, although he had heard his mother, who also worked at the castle, speak of Gwaine's family.

Geoffrey was pleased by the opportunity of hand to hand combat. He had a natural skill for fighting, which had been cultivated by a number of brawls with the other village boys. It was not often that he was able to show his talent, as several of the boys' mothers disapproved of fighting and would try to prevent these scuffles among their children. Geoffrey's mother never minded his occasional clashes with the other boys. She realised that a boy needed some outlet to express his anger, and was happy as long as that outlet did not consist of breaking any of their few dishes or pieces of furniture. Once, when he was younger, Geoffrey had become enraged after not being allowed to associate with the son of a lord, and had relieved his temper by storming home and throwing his mother's best platter to the floor. The satisfying crash it had made as it split into pieces relieved his anger, but the pounding which Geoffrey's father had given him when he returned home discouraged the boy from any further assaults upon their limited range of crockery. It was soon after this incident that he had discovered his aptitude for combat; he had been quarrelling with another boy over which of their mothers was better-looking when the boy, angered by the abuse of his mother, had brazenly suggested a fight. Geoffrey recklessly agreed, despite not having fought before. He knew that the older boys in the village enjoyed an occasional scuffle, but he was only seven at the time and had never participated in this rough form of amusement. His one consolation was that the other boy, Halor, was just as clueless as he was when it came to fighting. His victory had been swift and effectual; Halor had been forced to take his words back and concede that Geoffrey was the dominant fighter.

Since then, Geoffrey had engaged in many pitched battles with the other village boys – sometimes to settle an argument, other times simply for entertainment. He was confident that he would beat Gwaine easily. The dark-haired boy gazed up at him fearlessly, his chin raised proudly and eyes sparkling in anticipation...

There were very few formalities about the match. Osric, the eldest boy there, announced the fight and Geoffrey pounced on the younger boy, swinging his fists savagely. Gwaine may have been smaller and younger than Geoffrey – and also less experienced – but he was extremely agile. He ducked under Geoffrey's wild punches and dealt a few sharp, well-aimed blows to the older boy's abdomen. Geoffrey roared and tried to grab him, but Gwaine dodged to the side, kicking his opponent in the shins as he retreated.

The boys around them cheered wildly. Geoffrey had never been very popular among the other village children, for the same reason that he had always been respected; his favourite way to resolve any disagreement was with his fists and he had a great ability to do so. Several of the witnesses to the clash had been beaten by Geoffrey in the past, and they were glad to see him getting his come-uppance at last.

The match was over within ten minutes. Geoffrey was stronger than Gwaine, but the younger boy was simply too quick for him. He ducked and dodged around Geoffrey's increasingly wild swipes, lashing out whenever possible. Several times he moved too late and Geoffrey dealt him a blow, but not often. Eventually Gwaine managed to knock the older boy to the ground. He planted a foot squarely on Geoffrey's chest, and for one of the first times in his life, Geoffrey was forced to admit defeat.

The spectators broke into applause, staring at Gwaine with grudging admiration. Geoffrey scrambled to his feet, ignoring the hand Gwaine held out to him. He glanced around at the crowd of village boys, spat bitterly on the ground and stormed off.

…..

Gwaine ran towards the house, laughing in sheer delight.

"Mother!" he called as he dashed over the threshold, slamming the door behind him despite the hundreds of times his mother had told him not to. His laughter froze on his lips as he saw a crumpled heap of ragged cloth lying unmoving on the floor, partially obscured by a cloaked figure kneeling over the body.

Hearing Gwaine's sudden intake of breath Algor turned. His hand rested on Eloise's unmoving chest, glowing dimly and shedding a soft light over the body. The golden glow seemed to highlight the dead woman's features; making them appear sharper, unnatural. When he looked up at the small boy, his eyes swirled and burned with wicked golden fire.

…

_So there it is! Now you know why Gwaine feels like he can't trust a magic user. Please review and tell me what you think! _


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long since I last posted a chapter, I've been really busy with school exams and have had barely any time to write. Hope you enjoy this chapter._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, or any of the characters._

Gwaine's eyes snapped open.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up, looking around cautiously. He was on the bed in his chambers, in Camelot. He took another deep breath, trying to compose himself, and started when he heard a knock at the door.

Gwaine opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. The knock came again.

"Gwaine?" He recognised Percival's voice and sighed in relief before remembering that his friend was angry at him. Angry because Merlin was a sorcerer.

The dark haired knight drew in a sharp intake of breath. He tried to respond, to tell Percival that he was alright, but instead a strange cry came from his lips.

"Gwaine?!" Percival was worried now. There was a ring of anxiety in his voice and Gwaine tried to answer him, to reassure him that he was alright, but he couldn't move or speak.

"Gwaine!" Percival burst through the door, looking around frantically. His face relaxed slightly when he saw Gwaine on the bed, but his expression soon became wary and he approached his friend carefully, as if worried that the dark-haired knight would attack him.

"Gwaine?" he asked again quietly, edging closer to where his friend sat. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was only then Gwaine realised that his body was covered in sweat and he was visibly shaking. He looked down at his hands and was surprised to see beads of blood slipping along his fingers and onto the bedcover from where he had dug his fingernails into his palms. He found the sight strangely amusing, and allowed a small smile to split his features as he watched the red liquid seeping into the cloth. Percival looked horrified.

"How long have you been here?" he asked tentatively, glancing around the room. "We couldn't find you…" Percival trailed off as Gwaine looked up at him, his entire face full of pain that he was trying desperately to hide.

…...

Gaius looked up as Percival shouldered his way into his chambers, leading an apparently stricken Gwaine. The knight's dark, wavy hair was plastered to his forehead, and his face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat. He seemed pale, and his eyes slid over the elderly man as though he weren't there. Percival glanced up at the physician, his clear blue eyes worried.

"What happened to him?" Gaius asked, instantly moving towards them.

"I'm not sure", Percival responded, gently guiding Gwaine onto the physician's bed. "He was like this when I found him."

"Physically, he seems fine", Gaius remarked, bending over to peer into Gwaine's staring eyes. The knight blinked, seeming dazed, then looked up at Percival. His lips twitched, forming the smallest flicker of a smile.

"Thanks", he said, his voice hoarse and scratching his throat. Percival dipped his head in acknowledgement, lightly clapping his friend on the shoulder. Gaius felt Gwaine's forehead, then shook his head.

"There's no trace of a fever."

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" the larger knight asked quietly.

"His symptoms suggest he has suffered some major shock", Gaius confided. Percival looked back at Gwaine, who had buried his face in his hands.

"But he was in his room when I found him. What could have happened to make him like this?" Gaius raised an eyebrow, his eyes also flickering towards the dark-haired knight.

"I've no idea."

"I have to go. Arthur's expecting me." Percival raised his voice, looking at Gwaine although addressing both him and the physician. Gaius nodded his understanding and Percival turned and strode towards the door. He paused on the threshold, glancing back anxiously before turning and closing the door behind him.

Gaius stood still for a moment, lost in thought, before raising his chin resolutely. He headed towards a shelf of medicine books, but was stopped as a hand grabbed his arm and held it firmly. Gaius turned back to see Gwaine gazing at him with a mixture of desperation and defiance.

"Gaius." The knight's voice was low and urgent, yet hesitating, as if he had been bursting to tell this for a long time but was not sure he should. He tightened his grip on the old man's arm and Gaius looked down in surprise. When he looked back up Gwaine was still staring at him with that same crazed desperation.

"Merlin has magic."

…

Percival raised his arm and hesitated before knocking on the door to Gaius' chambers. He could hear footsteps coming closer and the door was opened a few inches to reveal Gaius peering out at him.

"Percival!" The physician opened the door wider and let him in. Percival glanced over to the corner of the room where Gwaine was sleeping.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

"He'll be fine", Gaius assured him. "He received a sudden shock, as we suspected, but I'm confident he will be back to normal shortly." Percival nodded, glancing over at Gwaine once more. The dark-haired knight shifted in his sleep.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Percival asked, his voice low. Gaius glanced over at the sleeping knight.

"You'll have to ask him that."

…..

"_Gaius." The knight looked up at him desperately. His voice was low, his eyes large in his pale face, yet his grip remained surprisingly strong._

"_Merlin has magic."_

_The physician froze for a moment, before trying to relax his expression._

"_Are you sure?" he asked quietly, hoping that he wasn't, that he couldn't be sure what he had seen. Gaius' mind was working overtime. This was what Merlin had been muttering about. _This_ was why he had been calling Gwaine's name in his sleep. The knight had discovered his secret._

"_I'm sure", Gwaine replied unwaveringly, trying not to picture the way his friend's eyes had glowed gold – the same wicked, golden fire that had killed his mother._

_Gaius took a deep breath and sighed heavily, sinking down onto the bed, next to Gwaine. He tried to think of what to say, how to reassure the knight that Merlin had only ever used his magic for Arthur and for Camelot._

"_He uses his powers for good, Gwaine", he said finally. Gwaine's eyes widened and he involuntarily drew back from the elderly man._

"_You knew?" he repeated, accusation layering his tone. Gaius exhaled heavily, looking down into his lap. It was not his place to reveal Merlin's secret. But Gwaine had already discovered the truth – at least a part of it – and Merlin was in no condition to explain why or how he used his powers. The knight had to be told – had to be made to realise the enormous sacrifices Merlin had made for the good of the kingdom. If not, he could mistakenly believe that Merlin – or his magic – was dangerous. And they couldn't risk the knight exposing Merlin's secret. He sighed once more. He was going to have to tell Gwaine everything._

…_.._

"_Merlin was born with magic." _

He had been shocked into stillness at Gaius' words. Gwaine had travelled to many kingdoms – and many taverns. He had been to places where magic was not outlawed and had seen with his own eyes that good could come of it as well as bad, but his mother's death was still branded into his mind and he couldn't help being wary of the strange powers some people possessed. He knew, of course, that certain people had a natural aptitude for magic – that was why there were some sorcerers who were so much more powerful than others – but he had never heard of somebody being born with magic.

"How – how is that possible?" he had asked, his mouth dry. Did this mean that there was no way to stop his friend – his _former_ friend? Gaius shook his head.

"I didn't know it was", he confessed. "Merlin has been able to perform incredible magical feats since he was born – feats that would take most sorcerers years to learn." The physician leant forward slightly, his eyes full of desperation. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to explain his ward's destiny to Gwaine. But the knight had to understand _why_ Merlin did what he did.

"The druids call him Emrys. He is said to be the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth. And he has used this great power to protect Arthur, to bring about Albion."

Gwaine stared at the elderly physician, stunned. Not only had the man admitted to concealing a sorcerer, but now he was saying that Merlin was the most powerful sorcerer in all time. But he couldn't be, could he? How could Merlin be that powerful?

"He's dangerous", Gwaine said softly. Regretfully. "A sorcerer cannot be trusted." Gaius' face fell, and the old man sighed wearily as he looked into Gwaine's eyes, studying them for a sign of uncertainty.

"Gwaine", he began, with the air of one about to say something very important. "Merlin has never used his magic for anything but good. For the good of the entire kingdom." Gwaine found himself listening, hoping that Gaius was right, that Merlin could still be good even with magic. But he remembered Merlin's eyes, their normal blue replaced with that terrible golden fire, and the way his mother had died at the hands of a sorcerer.

"He has saved Arthur's life countless times, and the lives of everybody in Camelot." Gaius looked up at the young knight seriously. "How do you think we have held against all Morgana's attacks? Merlin is the one who has helped us defeat her.

"The druids view him as a figure of legend. He has a destiny that has been foretold since the dawn of time – to protect Arthur and return magic to this land." Gaius sat back, giving the other man a moment to come to terms with what had been said. "Arthur is the Once and Future King. It is Merlin's destiny to protect and guide him, and assist him in uniting the land of Albion." Gwaine stared at the physician, his mind reeling with the information he had just been given.

…..

_Hello again! Sorry to stop the flashback, but there will be more insight into Gwaine's past and the death of his mother later on in the story. Please review and tell me what you think!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello again! Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and/or reviewed. I'm so glad that people are reading my story and enjoying it! Here is Chapter 7._

_Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Merlin or any of the characters, only this story._

Percival closed the door to his room and walked over to the massive four-poster bed. He sank down onto it thankfully, his muscles aching from a long and difficult training session. His large fingers struggled to unlatch his gauntlets, eventually succeeding in the task. He slipped the metal gauntlets over his hands, massaging his wrists gently, and was about to undo his belt when a knock sounded at the door. He looked up to see Gwaine peering around it.

"Gwaine!" he exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. He was expecting a joke from the other knight about how he always took twice as long to get changed as anyone else, but none came. Gwaine glanced over his shoulder anxiously before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Can I talk to you?"

…..

Percival sat, stunned. Even after Gwaine's repeated assurances that he had seen it with his own eyes and the promise that Gaius had confirmed his suspicions, he still couldn't believe that Merlin was a sorcerer.

He liked the boy – everyone did. Merlin was honest, perpetually cheerful and had a heart of gold – and, apparently, golden eyes too. The servant often appeared foolish and clumsy, yet Percival had seen him display extraordinary wisdom, not to be expected of a man his age. And sorcerer or no, Percival knew that Merlin would never hurt Arthur. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry. He swallowed and tried again.

"What are you going to do?" he asked quietly. From what Gwaine had told him, Merlin had been given no choice in whether he wanted to have magic or not. The knight knew that Merlin would never have used his gifts for evil purposes, but from the look in Gwaine's eye his friend was not convinced.

"I don't know", Gwaine answered roughly. "Sorcery is evil."

"But Merlin isn't", Percival pointed out. Gwaine remained silent and Percival regarded his friend with confusion. He would have thought that Gwaine would be accepting of Merlin's powers, that his friend would find it hilarious that Merlin could hide something like this from everybody for so long. Was there something he didn't know?

The silence was broken by Gwaine's voice, low and sad, a mere breath.

"My mother was killed by a sorcerer."

Percival stared at his friend, shocked and unsure of what to say. Gwaine had never spoken of his upbringing, except to say that his father had died when he was only a baby and he had never met the man. Now he understood why Gwaine was so worried about Merlin's magic.

"I saw it", Gwaine continued, his voice cracking slightly. Percival pretended not to hear it. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words to comfort his friend.

"Merlin wouldn't hurt Arthur", he said quietly. It was all he could think of to say, but he knew without a doubt that it was true. Gwaine looked up at him, his expression tormented.

"How can you be sure?"

…..

It was with a heavy heart that Gaius ascended the stairs to Merlin's room. He knew that the warlock would be awake; he was recovering well although he couldn't be on his feet for long without straining his back wounds. Gaius had hoped to put off this conversation, but knew that it must be had. It had been almost a week since Gwaine had confided in him that he knew of Merlin's magic, and although nothing had come of it so far Gaius knew that they needed to have a plan if Gwaine decided to betray Merlin's secret.

The physician rapped his knuckles on the door to the warlock's room and was bidden to enter. He hesitated for a moment before opening the door, and it was with a feeling of trepidation that he stepped into the room. Merlin looked confused seeing his mentor's serious expression and half-rose from the bed, a question springing to his lips.

"Arthur is fine", Gaius assured him before he had a chance to ask, and Merlin sank back down with a quiet sigh of relief. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, shoving a pillow behind his back so as not to aggravate his wounds, and looked expectantly at his mentor. Gaius pulled out the chair that sat in the corner of Merlin's room and sat down with a sigh. Merlin picked up on the sigh and cocked an eyebrow quizzically.

Gaius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at his ward seriously.

"Gwaine knows of your magic", he stated simply. Merlin looked down at the threadbare blanket, fingering a small hole in the faded material. Gaius waited patiently, and after a brief pause Merlin glanced back up at him.

"I know", the servant confessed quietly. Both were silent for a moment.

"I don't know what to do", Merlin admitted. "Gwaine…" he trailed off.

"He hasn't said anything yet but that does not mean he won't", Gaius said sharply. His face softened, and he regarded his ward with a mixture of pity and regret. "I know you don't want to think that Gwaine will betray your secret but we need to have a plan if that time arises."

"Gwaine wouldn't do anything without talking to me first; I know he wouldn't", Merlin said in a low voice.

"Are you sure?" Gaius asked softly, concerned of the risk the warlock was prepared to take. He knew that Gwaine cared for Merlin, but sorcery was still regarded with the utmost suspicion and many friendships had failed because of it.

"I'm sure." Merlin gave his reply with complete and utter certainty and Gaius realised, not for the first time, just how much Merlin had grown since he had first arrived in Camelot. The man before him was pale and injured, but his voice held confidence and his eyes blazed with determination. The young boy, who had used his magic for pranks or to do chores, who was unsure of himself and his abilities, who was afraid that having magic made him a monster – he was gone. In his place was a young man, who had suffered more than any man his age should have to and remained strong, who was the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and was content to remain in the shadows as a serving boy, who had been forced to do terrible things – things that had torn him apart inside – but willingly chose to do so because it was the lesser of two evils. The man before him had killed. But he had also saved countless lives, no matter what the risk was to himself. Gaius knew that that man would do what was right. He always had.

….

Merlin pushed open the heavy, polished oak door and let himself in. Carefully setting down the tray of food he was carrying, he crossed the room and threw open the curtains.

"Rise and shine!" he said brightly.

"_Merlin._" Arthur rolled over with a groan and blinked blearily up at the grinning manservant. He stared for a moment before it dawned on him.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed again, this time in a completely different tone. Grinning, he threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed. Crossing the space between himself and his servant in two strides, he pulled the scrawny man into a hug. Merlin hugged him back but was unable to keep from crying out as Arthur's strong arms squeezed him tightly, sending a wave of pain shooting through his back. Arthur let go of him immediately and dropped his arms to his sides, his grin replaced by an expression of guilty concern. Merlin tried to smile, to reassure him, but the pain showed on his pale face.

"I'm sorry", Arthur said in a low voice, taking a small step back.

"No, no it's fine", Merlin said, smiling at his friend reassuringly. Arthur studied his face carefully before looking away, and Merlin knew that he would be watching anxiously for any sign of pain from then on. The warlock smothered a sigh. Arthur never noticed when he was hurt until he nearly died and then the prat would fall all over himself trying to pretend that he wasn't worried when it was clear to anyone with half a brain that he was. Although it was good to know his friend cared, the constant attention could be exasperating.

….

Arthur watched Merlin carefully as he leaned over to straighten the bedcovers. A brief grimace of pain crossed the servant's face, but it was quickly replaced with his usual expression. He straightened up and walked over to the long wooden table where the remains of Arthur's breakfast sat.

The King watched wordlessly as Merlin gathered up the breakfast dishes, placing everything haphazardly back on the tray. He was glad to have Merlin back – everyone had noticed the absence of one of their number – but it was clear that the servant wasn't completely healed yet and Arthur was worried that he was doing too much too soon.

Finished with the clearing up, Merlin lifted the tray and turned to face Arthur.

"Will that be all?" he asked respectfully. Arthur had been lost in thought; he started and looked across at Merlin confusedly before shaking himself out of his reverie. He nodded mutely in response to his friend's question and the servant turned to leave.

"Merlin." Merlin turned back, a silent question in his eyes. Arthur hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he wanted to say.

"I'm glad you're back", he said finally. Merlin smiled, then nodded stiffly and turned away. Arthur watched him go, a smile playing around his lips.

….

_So! Now Gwaine and Percival know Merlin's secret. Percival doesn't really get a lot of airtime on the show, but I like him and he seems to be quite close to Gwaine. And Merlin is on the mend, so will probably feature more prominently in the coming chapters._

_Hope you liked the chapter!_


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